


Rescue (Or, a Beginning)

by editoress



Category: Licanius Series - James Islington
Genre: Friendship, Gen, mercy for the enemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 05:42:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16382468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/editoress/pseuds/editoress
Summary: When Vhalire's time comes, do not let him suffer.  Well.  At least she followed the rules.





	Rescue (Or, a Beginning)

The twisting stone tunnels threw back every sound within them, from the hollow drip of water to Asha’s labored breathing.  Somewhere in this labyrinth was a hysterical woman with incredible power, and Asha was determined to get away from her as quickly and quietly as possible.  Unfortunately that was a little difficult when she was so laden down.

She was tired already from using the veil for so many hours beforehand, and it turned out that waiting in silent terror did a number on one’s energy as well.  Her muscles strained to push herself through the tunnels without letting her steps fall too loudly.  One hand had an awkward grip on a sword.  The rest of her was occupied with the shadowy corpselike figure of a sha’teth.

Asha did not fully understand what she had overheard, but she did understand that Vhalire was suffering.  She couldn’t say whether or not he deserved it; but he hadn’t been the one to kill Jin, so she had no reason to let him die.  When Asha left to escape Isiliar’s wrath, she took him, too.  Fortunately Vhalire was even lighter than he looked, though every few meters he squirmed in agony.  She felt certain it was the right thing to do.  Unfortunately it was also like wrestling with a bag full of maggots that were all trying to escape.  Despite the bandaging and cauterization, thick black blood dribbled onto her fancy court uniform.

“Almost there,” she breathed.  An hour ago she had been completely lost; now she knew precisely where to stash her motley packages.  How she knew, she couldn’t say, but she had neither the free time nor the energy to examine it.  Sometimes you just didn’t look a gift map in the mouth.

Vhalire groaned softly, drawing both revulsion and pity from her.  Overshadowing both those emotions was the fact she was trying to be stealthy and that wasn’t helping.  “Hold on,” she whispered.  “You can make noise later.”

Vhalire stopped writhing long enough to shoot her a contorted scowl.  She took that as a good sign.

The earth shook.  In the distance behind them came a thin, echoing remnant of an enraged shriek.  Asha walked faster.  The sha’teth shuddered in her arms.  Suddenly every noise the stone walls channeled toward them had the terrible potential to be Isiliar, at least more than they had been doing before.

Asha collapsed ungracefully when they reached her chosen hiding place.  The sword clattered to the floor, and she let it go.  She showed more care to Vhalire, though it was an effort not to set him down right on the sword.  She braced her hands against the floor and sat there, breathing heavily, for some time.  Her tunic was disgracefully black and smelled like a banquet for vultures.  Her legs ached, and her head wasn’t too happy with her, either.

“She must not find me,” Vhalire gasped as soon as he had the breath for it.

Asha swallowed.  “I know.”  She propped the sword against the wall and sat back on her heels, thinking.

Vhalire let his head rest against the floor with a painful-sounding  _thunk_.  “If you kill me…”

Asha met his eyes and wouldn’t do it.  It was true that he was likely an enemy; and it was also true he looked rather like he’d been cobbled together out of curdled dairy.  But his eyes and his voice were too human, too alive, for her to turn her back on him.  She bowed her head briefly.  This was going to take strength she wasn’t sure she had left.  Then she looked up again with steely determination.  “I have a better idea,” she said.

* * *

Guarding the Sanctuary more or less amounted to leaning against the stone frame of the entrance and staying awake on the off chance anyone came by.  It took two people to do it, mainly on account of the effort of staying awake.  Cammen shaded his eyes against the sun and squinted at the empty path in front of them.  No one ever seemed interested in getting any closer to the Sanctuary than they had to, which made sense considering the glowing death pillar that was housed inside.  Cammen could have sworn he felt the energy prickling at his back during these shifts, but so far he was still as alive as ever.

Something unpleasant prickled at his nose.  From there it bloomed into a full-on assault.

Cammen’s face scrunched up.  “ _Fates_ , Jas,” he managed.  “What have you been  _eating_?”

Jaster looked over at him from the other side of the entrance, wounded.  “What?”  Cammen could see the moment it hit him.  “Oh.”

“Did something crawl up your ass and  _die_?”

Jaster’s eyes were watering.  “It wasn’t me!”

So involved were the two guards in this debate that they missed the sound of passing footsteps.

* * *

For once, it was quiet, and not in life-or-death anticipation.

Asha had managed to hide Vhalire away, change, steal a Vessel, and come back without being sidetracked by Taeris, and she had done it while exhausted.  Now she knelt in the most hidden corner of her quarters beside the sha’teth.  Vhalire was still and listless, but he was at least still breathing.  Asha held her newly found ivory Vessel in one shaking hand and tried to steady herself.

“You may have to use this on me when I’m done,” she admitted.

Vhalire’s eyes widened in what could have been alarm.

Asha hoped she had something left in her Reserve and focused.  Working Vessels still felt strange after being able to effortlessly handle her own Essence, but she’d long ago learned the trick to it, which was mainly to not get frustrated.  The Vessel glowed dimly but then picked up light, almost as if it were sensing the urgency of the situation.  It threw sharp shadows over Vhalire’s form, catching every ragged edge of the wound.  And yet, when she moved the Vessel over him, the injury lessened, as if the gaping hole in his torso had only been a trick of the light.  In a few minutes it had closed over entirely.  More than that, Vhalire looked haler than before–less terrible, somehow, or maybe someone’s looks grew on you when you saved them from deadly betrayal.

Asha put the Vessel down and smiled wanly at him.  “Well?  All right?”

Vhalire raised himself to a sitting position.  One hand brushed over his stomach.  He turned to look at her, gaze clearer and more incredulous than ever.  “Why would you do this?” he rasped.

Asha would have answered, but she was busy passing out.

* * *

She woke to the sound of insistent knocking, as she so often did these days.  Asha sat up and found herself in her bed, which was a pleasant surprise.  She was still wearing the clothes from her reconnaissance-turned-rescue at the Sanctuary, boots included.  She rolled swiftly to her feet.  Her muscles still ached, but the bone-deep weariness was nowhere to be found.  She checked the room; it was empty.  Another knock sounded, so she ran a hand through her hair and answered the door.

“Fates,” Taeris Sarr said in lieu of good morning, “are you all right?”

“Yes,” Asha replied, glad to find it was true.

“Long night?” he asked with a touch of sympathy.

“I went out,” she said.  It was not precisely an answer; she was getting good at that.

“Hmph.”  His mouth twitched into a smirk.  “Sometimes I forget you’re that age.  Going into town and making friends.”

Asha started.

He nodded to her outfit.  “Get cleaned up and see me in the study.  There’s work to do.”

“Yes, sir,” she said.  As soon as he was gone, she searched her quarters for any trace of Vhalire, but there was none.  Probably he had melted into the shadows and vanished into the night.  Asha stared thoughtfully out the window for a time.  Then she smiled and said, “I suppose that’s  _one_ way to make friends.”


End file.
